Ikerite Academy, Jera Memorial Square.
The distant clocktower’s hands had just crossed past five o’clock. The last glow of sunset spilled across the ring after ring of teaching buildings, each window reflecting dazzling orange light. The stone steps of the square and the giant outdoor screen’s metal frame were lit in gold.
Night hadn’t even fallen yet, but already every step of the square was crammed full.
Students sat shoulder-to-shoulder, clutching drinks and snacks, far more excited than they usually were after class.
The chatter was so loud and lively—it was nothing like an ordinary evening break!
Even passersby on the roads outside the square had stopped, mouths agape, looking up at the giant screen.
“I just went out for dinner for a bit, and the traitors are already revealed?!”
From the back rows, plenty of students stared at the screen in disbelief, voices full of shock.
“Reasoning…”
“Think about it this way—just imagine Principal Lan catching two bad students. Doesn’t that make the whole complicated problem suddenly simple?”“If it had been one of those Resurrection Church fanatics with weaker minds, they wouldn’t even last one round of Principal Lan’s anti-cult pop quiz.”
“What an evening—what a spectacle.”
The five-day, five-night game of darkness and slaughter—
Touted as the most dangerous and mentally crushing “Shadow World” of all.
Yet under Lan Qi’s hands, it was once again turned into something like the previous Shadow World!
“From the moment Frey flipped the psychological pressure between the two sides this morning, Lan Qi’s been constantly piling on pressure against the traitors, while simultaneously easing it for the challengers. He draws all the hatred to himself, so the others no longer worry about being killed tonight, and that minimizes their panic as much as possible. That way, the Great Poet’s negative effects on allies are reduced to the bare minimum.”
Many students who came with the intent to study were already analyzing Frey and Lan Qi’s synergy.
If Frey hadn’t established that stable foundation early on, Lan Qi wouldn’t have been able to mend everyone’s relations in just one day, nor push the traitors’ mentality into collapse.
As for the Great Poet of Love, its effect had never been formally documented.
Even if some teachers of the Sage’s Institute knew, under Dean Loren’s orders, no one ever revealed any intel on Lan Qi.
But those who had witnessed his first Shadow World in the Demon Academy remembered: whenever Lan Qi summoned the Poet of Love, every demon would behave abnormally, suffering strange symptoms.
So it could be confirmed—the Poet had the ability to interfere with minds, even induce illusions.
But until today, no one knew for certain.
Now, at last, the students were convinced: the Poet’s ability was amplifying emotions.
And it worked on both allies and enemies alike!
Placed in anyone else’s hands, this gray-haired succubus was a dangerous double-edged sword that had to be used with caution.
But in Lan Qi’s hands, it became something else entirely—an unmeasurable, catastrophic weapon. A perfect partner in a graveyard of blades!
And then—
The clash of iron rang out like thunder from the heavens, reverberating through the square, making everyone’s eardrums hum.
On the outdoor screen, the once-holy sanctuary of Lichtenstein Castle’s chapel was no longer a place of light.
It had been twisted, engulfed by infernal flames born of darkness—transformed into a battlefield belonging to hell itself.
Blazing crimson devoured everything. Sparks scattered wildly, dancing a violent rhythm.
The students’ chatter died instantly. All eyes locked once more onto the violent clash unfolding on the screen.
Through the stained-glass dome, radiant sunset light streamed in, scattering like pearls across a tranquil sea. But from the ground, vicious flames surged upward. The two mixed—heaven and hell colliding at their border.
And then the screen was split apart by a black-armored knightess wielding a flaming longsword.
Her silhouette, framed by the chapel’s divine light, became a black fissure that cleaved the world.
Before her, the Executioner and the Paladin were both struck back, hurled a dozen meters away.
Golden healing light immediately enveloped them. Beneath their cracked armor, grotesque wounds quickly began to close under the priests’ magic.
“Trash of the Goddess of Fate’s Church… All you do is get in my way…”
Every step the Saint of Destruction took made the marble tremble. Under her strength and magic, the ancient sanctuary seemed on the verge of collapse.
Seeing her advance, the Executioner and the Paladin tightened their grips on their weapons, grim resolve etched in their faces.
The battle had exploded so suddenly that the battlefield was forced apart in seconds!
At the very first opportunity, the merchant’s male bodyguard had snuck behind and incapacitated the frenzied cleric, binding her and tossing her to the rear to be guarded.
Now, the Saint of Destruction clashed violently with the Executioner and Paladin up front, while the rest of the team scrambled into new positions, pulling back to maintain distance.
The formation was simple:
- Frontline: Executioner and Paladin, tasked with stalling the Saint.
- Midline: The male bodyguard, with his sister’s traps laid nearby.
- Backline: Priests, just repositioned, providing healing and blessings. Alongside them stood the helpless merchant’s son, and Lan Qi with his companions, who guarded the unconscious cleric and the noble mage girl who had lost her will to fight.
If the Saint of Destruction broke through to the backline they had worked so hard to establish—everything would collapse.
“Die, cultist!!”
The Executioner roared, charging again. His steps thundered like boulders tumbling down a mountain. With bloodshot eyes, he swung his massive ax like a raging bear desperate to tear apart its foe.
“Foolish.”
The Saint sneered, watching the beast’s struggle as though it were a circus act. In an instant she became a black blur, evading the Executioner’s blow with ease, rushing straight for the backline—for Lan Qi.
The ax slammed into empty air, kicking up a storm.
“You won’t pass!!”
The Paladin had been waiting. His eyes locked on her, his longsword blazing with holy light. Blue veins pulsed at his wrist as he mustered every ounce of strength, delivering a radiant strike that slashed toward her.
But the Saint of Destruction raised her flaming sword without hesitation, blocking most of it. Divine brilliance and infernal fire collided in the air, exploding against her black armor. She endured it all, then lashed out with a savage kick, sending the Paladin sprawling—before surging once again toward the backline!
From afar, Huperion’s heart pounded.
She knew it wasn’t that the Executioner and Paladin were weak.
It was that someone in the backline had already pulled all the aggro without even casting a single spell!
Just like during her entrance exams—when even if she gave her all, she still couldn’t stop Examiner Frelat once Lan Qi had provoked him into a fury.